


Wet

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-02
Updated: 2010-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth has been thinking about sex all day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by lefaym.

Elizabeth has been thinking about sex all day. It's been there, clouding her mind through meetings with clients and her new wine distributor. She tries to put it out of her mind, but the even the most casual brush of her own hand against her arm, or the feel of her hair on her neck brings her arousal to the surface.

When she meets Peter and Neal for lunch, she thinks about what it would be like if Peter slid under the table and pressed his mouth to the crotch of her cotton panties. She would continue to talk with Neal, like nothing was happening, as Peter pushed aside the fabric and pressed his tongue to her clit.

She snaps out of her fantasy and reaches for her ice water.

After lunch, when saying goodbye, Peter kisses her, intending a quick kiss, but she holds him there a moment longer than necessary. They part, and Peter raises an eyebrow. She smiles halfway and an understanding passes between them. He smiles too, until he spots Neal knowingly grinning at them.

"Come on, Caffrey," Peter says, grabbing Neal's arm. Neal just laughs and winks at Elizabeth as they leave the restaurant.

Elizabeth has meetings until six. She tries to focus on her work, and for a while she does, but at the end of her last meeting, the reminder is there. She's especially aware of how her hard nipples press against the inside of her bra, the left nipple more sensitive than the right. The slightest movement sends a jolt through her, and she can feel it all through her body.

At home, she changes into more casual clothes and takes Satchmo for a walk. They hurry back when it starts to rain, and when they arrive home, she's soaked and cold. She goes upstairs and turns on the shower before stripping out of her wet things. Shivering, she steps under the hot spray, and moans. The water feels amazing against her neck and across her breasts as her arousal returns, as if it had ever left. She feels warmer already.

She thinks about Peter, and the moment between them, the understanding. She should wait for him, she _wants_ to wait for him, but he could be home anytime between now until midnight. That's, potentially, a lot of waiting.

Elizabeth reaches up and uncoils the shower head from the base, and holds it downward, as she settles onto the side of the bathtub. She leans against the wall, and it's cool against her skin. She draws one leg up onto the tub's edge, letting her thighs go slack. She adjusts the shower head from an even spray to the pulsating jet, then turns it toward her cunt.

She rolls her head back against the tile, and she spreads her labia with two fingers, crying out as the water hits her clit at just the right angle. She shudders, feeling her vaginal walls contracting already. All of the waiting has sent her body into overdrive, and everything she touches sends waves of pleasure through her, from the feeling of the steam, heavy against her skin, all the way to the sole of the foot she's rubbing against the nubbly non-slip butterfly shaped stickers on the bottom of the tub.

Elizabeth whimpers as she feels her orgasm coming on. Her back arches and she holds herself up with her one foot, her moans broken as she tries to breathe. After the long day of being responsible and not suggesting her husband perform oral sex on her in a public location, in front of his partner, just because it seemed like a good idea, she wasn't going to be proper in the privacy of her own home, alone in her shower.

"Oh, fuck me," she gasps. Louder, she says, "Oh, fuck. Ohhh..."

She doesn't say anything when her orgasm peaks, her mouth open; her eyes closed tight. She thinks back to the lunch; her fantasy of Peter's mouth on her, and how she looked at Neal as though he didn't know what was going on, but he obviously did, and, somehow, that made the whole thing even better.

Finally, she relaxes against the wall, letting the shower head go limp in her hand, the water pulsating against her ankle.

"I could watch that all day."

The sound of Peter's voice goes straight to her still sensitive clit. She looks over lazily in her post-orgasmic bliss, and smiles. "Hi, honey."

He chuckles. "Hi. Couldn't wait?"

"I didn't know when you'd be home." Elizabeth reaches over and turns off the shower. She rings out her hair and stands up, walking the four steps across the bathroom to the door, her legs a little wobbly under her. She leans toward him, not caring that she's dripping water onto his suit, and he kisses her; cupping her breast, the left one. Peter knows which nipple is more sensitive, and he thumbs it gently until she whimpers in her mouth.

"Feel up to a little more?" he asks, pulling his head back from Elizabeth just enough to look at her face.

Slowly, she guides his hand from her breast, down her stomach, and between her legs. His fingers naturally find their places, and she grins.

"I'm just getting started."


End file.
